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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23430391">Time's Up</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActuallyMe/pseuds/ActuallyMe'>ActuallyMe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Time's Up [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>But That's Not the Point, F/F, I have decided, Smut, mostly it's just a very sad fic, there will be a lighter sequel to this, you can all blame mia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:42:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23430391</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActuallyMe/pseuds/ActuallyMe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She hesitates for a moment as she nears, trying to compose herself. Whoever is in there could be dangerous. It’s not her place to protect the TARDIS. But this is where she goes when she needs to grieve the Doctor, and she will not have that little scrap she has left be taken away.</p><p>Yaz steps inside.</p><p>Following the sounds feels like deja vu. Someone is muttering, tinkering with the TARDIS controls, and the audacity makes her so irate she could scream. But then there’s a flash of blonde hair, a dirtied blue coat, and trembling hands.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Time's Up [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685566</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Time's Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/clowncartardis/gifts">clowncartardis</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been three years, two weeks, and four days since the Doctor died. Yaz has kept track of every day with the diligence of someone waiting for her lover to return home from war. It’s not like she can publicly grieve. What can she say? The best person she ever met died on another planet? There is no body to bury; there are no rites to recite. Just an empty space in the universe where the Doctor used to be.</p><p>Ryan and Graham get it, thank God. And Nani. Nani got it, too.</p><p>The first time Nani asked after the Doctor, Yaz’d burst out into tears. ‘Oh, Yasmin. Tell your Nani what has happened.’</p><p>‘I can’t, Nani.’</p><p>She’d gotten a glint in her eye. ‘Is the reason you cannot tell me the same reason I saw you at my first wedding? The one with the demons?’  </p><p>Yaz had choked. </p><p>‘Your Nani isn’t dumb, Yasmin. Come, come. Tell me what has happened to our friend.’<br/>
</p><p>So she had. She told Nani everything, and Nani hadn’t been surprised, or angry, or anything. She had just asked, ‘Did you love her?’</p><p>She nodded and her Nani enveloped her in a perfumed hug.</p><p>Yaz sobs as they say the final blessings to send her Nani off to the next world. It’s not fair. It’s not fair! She knows this is how life works. People are born, they live—for a time, if they’re lucky—and then they die. But the Doctor wasn’t supposed to die. The Doctor was supposed to be okay.</p><p>--</p><p>The days after her Nani’s funeral go quick. This time, she actually gets to take compassionate leave to deal with it, even if it is only two weeks. Even then, she knows that it’s generous and more time than most people get. </p><p>She’s on week two, killing herself on a run, making her way to the TARDIS. She’d shown up in Sheffield not long after they had. Only Yaz, Ryan and Graham seem to see her, which is good. She doesn’t think she could stand to see her defaced and covered in graffiti.</p><p>As she runs, she notes something strange. The TARDIS looks off. Is the door open? Yaz pops a quick text to the fam’s group chat before she pumps her legs harder, faster, with no regard for her poor lungs. As she gets closer, she can see the door is definitely open, but that’s not possible. The TARDIS hasn’t opened her doors for any of them. For a second, a glimmer of hope flickers in her heart, but then she remembers that the Doctor is dead. Gallifrey up in flames, taking her beloved Doctor with it.</p><p>She’s frustrated again, so angry that someone has managed to break in, angry that the TARDIS let them, angry that she’s never opened her doors for Yaz.</p><p>She hesitates for a moment as she nears, trying to compose herself. Whoever is in there could be dangerous. It’s not her place to protect the TARDIS. But this is where she goes when she needs to grieve the Doctor, and she will not have that little scrap she has left be taken away.</p><p>Yaz steps inside. </p><p>Following the sounds feels like deja vu. Someone is muttering, tinkering with the TARDIS controls, and the audacity makes her so irate she could scream. But then there’s a flash of blonde hair, a dirtied blue coat, and trembling hands. </p><p>She can’t believe it. Her hair is longer, down her back, and her skin looks sallow. She’s shaky and too skinny like she hasn’t eaten well for a few months. But that hair growth suggests she’s been gone for as long as Yaz has felt her absence, if not longer.</p><p>The figure collapses, and Yaz rushes forward to catch her, a cry on her lips. ‘Doctor!’</p><p>She manages to grab her and soften the fall as they both crumple to the ground. The Doctor is blathering nonsense, her hands twitching, and then the first intelligible word of the evening: ‘Tired.’ Her fever-bright eyes close, and then her breathing evens out.</p><p>The Doctor smells like she’s been to hell and back again. What she needs is a shower, but Yaz doesn’t have the heart to wake her, even if she could.</p><p>God knows how long they sit there on the ground before the boys show up. Ryan trips into the TARDIS and Graham hesitantly follows. Understanding dawns first on Graham’s face, and then Ryan’s.</p><p>Without a word, they lift the Doctor off of Yaz’s lap and Yaz leads them to her own room. It’s still where she remembers, even after all these years, still how she left it. Her once-favourite jacket strewn across the bed, the covers undone, her perfume on the side table. Like walking into a time capsule. Yaz feels her throat closing up, but she shakes her head violently to clear her thoughts. The Doctor needs her. She removes the Doctor’s shoes, leaving her socks, and then follows the boys out of the room. The door closes behind them with a soft click.</p><p>‘What happened, cockle?’ Graham’s voice is gentle, which is good. She doesn’t think she can handle a proper interrogation at the minute.</p><p>‘I… were running. To pay my respects. To the Doctor. But then I saw the door, open, and that’s when I texted you. She were trying to get the controls, trying to do something with them, and then she collapsed. I caught her. And then you showed up.’</p><p>The words come out halting and percussive. Suddenly, Yaz can’t breathe.</p><p>‘C’mon, mate.’ Ryan puts his hand on her arm. ‘C’mon, go home. We’ll take care of her. You rest a bit.’</p><p>‘No!’ The outburst doesn’t surprise either of the two men beside her, but it does startle her. ‘No, I think, I know I want to be here when she wakes up. Looks like she’s been through a tough time.’</p><p>‘We’ll stay with you,’ Graham suggests. ‘I’m sure I remember how to work her kettle.’</p><p>They shuffle to the kitchen, and Yaz puts her head on the table. Her eyes droop heavily, and before Graham can get her that tea, she falls into a stressful sleep.</p><p>Her dreams are plagued by the sound of the Doctor screaming, of Judoon officers, of torture and captivity and pain. But then the dreams fade to black, and the only sound she can hear is the Doctor, sobbing and alone.</p><p>--</p><p>When Yaz wakes, it’s to the sound of snorting laughter. The Doctor’s hair is short again, and it looks like she’s freshly showered. She smells like the body wash they bought at Lush in the year 2047, the limited edition one that smells different on each wearer. On the Doctor, it smells like peppermint. She’s still super thin, though.</p><p>‘Doctor?</p><p>‘Hiya, Yaz. Graham tells me I have you to thank for finding me last night.’ Her smile is warm, despite the exhaustion behind her eyes. </p><p>‘We all helped,’ Yaz shrugs. ‘What happened?’</p><p>The Doctor regards her for a minute before she scrunches her face. It’s not a friendly scrunch, but a dismissive one. ‘Judoon prison. Took me a few years to get out. Sorry, fam.’ She looks old, then, older than Yaz has ever seen her look, and Yaz remembers her nightmares, remembers that the Doctor is slightly telepathic. Were those memories, Yaz’s dreams? The Doctor’s memories? They must’ve been. Too much of a coincidence.</p><p>‘And then I didn’t have my TARDIS, so I couldn’t get back to you in time. Ryan told me about your Nani, Yaz. I’m sorry you lost her.’</p><p>Grief chokes her like a vice, but she swallows around the lump in her throat. ‘Thanks.’ Because what do you say? What do you say when someone you love comes back from the dead, only to try and comfort you about your dead Nani?</p><p>‘How are you feeling?’ It’s easier for Yaz to look after other people than herself.</p><p>‘I’m fine,’ she says, but it’s unconvincing, and now that Yaz has seen inside her mind, she can’t help but notice the lie. </p><p>‘I saw it.’ The words evaporate into the air, and Yaz winces. She shouldn’t have said it.</p><p>‘Saw what?’ Graham asks, but the Doctor’s eyes sharpen on Yaz. It’s intimidating, that stare, and Yaz has seen it so many times, just never directed at her.  </p><p>‘When I was asleep. Your brain was projecting images.’ Why can’t she keep her own mouth shut? She feels like she’s on the verge of hysterics, but manages to stop talking. Ryan shifts uncomfortably next to her.</p><p>Graham nods. ‘Right. C’mon, son. Let’s give the Doc and Yaz some time alone.’ She doesn’t want to be left alone with the Doctor when she’s angry. They shuffle out and Yaz stares at the door. </p><p>The Doctor sighs, grabbing her attention. ‘I’m sorry you had to see that.’ Her voice is soft, and her gaze less intense. She looks apologetic, and that’s absurd.</p><p>‘I’m not angry because I saw it, Doctor. I’m hurt because you won’t let us in. We want to help. I want to help, but it’s hard when I don’t know how.’  Yaz’s hands lift like she is going to reach for the Doctor, but then they drop. The Doctor isn’t touchy. Instead, Yaz stands and begins pacing. She’s taken to pacing a lot since the Doctor didn’t die. </p><p>‘You died. You died, but you didn’t, instead, they tortured you, and you’re still trying to protect us! Let me help. Please.’</p><p>When did the Doctor stand? She takes Yaz’s hands, rubbing her thumb over her fidgeting fingers.</p><p>‘The help I need, you can’t give.’</p><p>‘Bollocks.’</p><p>‘Language, Yaz.’ But there’s no heat in the reprimand.</p><p>‘Sorry,’ she says, not sorry at all. ‘What do you need, Doctor?’ Yaz’s hand rests on the Doctor’s face.</p><p>‘It wouldn’t be fair of me to ask.’</p><p>‘You can ask me anything,’ she breathes. They’re so close, Yaz can hear the Doctor’s twin heartbeats. </p><p>‘That’s why it wouldn’t be fair.’ She looks so sad. She shouldn’t ever look so sad. It should be against the rules of the universe. Yaz would give her anything she asked for.</p><p>Yaz closes the distance between them, her mouth pressing against the Doctor’s. </p><p>She pulls away, panicked, once she realises what she’s done. She should’ve asked first, she should’ve let the Doctor make the first move, should’ve—the Doctor’s mouth is pushing into her personal space, finding Yaz’s lips, and the spiralling thoughts cease.</p><p>‘Please,’ the Doctor begs, her eyes closed and her mouth achingly close to Yaz. ‘Please, I want you, I need you. Make me forget, please.’ Yaz regards her for a moment too long. The Doctor pulls away, panic making its way to her expression, and that’s when Yaz knows what she needs to do. She pushes the Doctor against the kitchen wall, and bites at her bottom lip. The sound the Doctor makes is beyond even Yaz’s wildest dreams.</p><p>She’s here, she’s real, she’s so alive and so sad, and Yaz wants to take care of her. But she has her own frustrations, her own desires. In a perfect world, they would be in bed, with time enough to explore. This is not a perfect world. Not even close. She palms against the Doctor’s breast, trying to incite the Doctor’s moans. She gets something better.</p><p>‘Please, Yaz. Stars I need you. I need you, I’ll combust if you staaaaaaah—.’</p><p>God she’s wound up, but she begs so nicely. Yaz can’t help but tweak a nipple through the Doctor’s shirts. She wants to get the Doctor out of these clothes, but in the kitchen, with the threat of the boys walking in, she’ll have to make do. She slips the Doctor’s braces off her shoulders, unbuttons her trousers, and kisses her.</p><p>The Doctor’s trousers pool around her feet, and she’s wearing the most ridiculous boxers, with stars and astronauts. Yaz pulls those down as well.</p><p>It’s too fast, this is all going too fast. Still, when her fingers find the Doctor’s warmth, she is delighted to learn that the Doctor is already wet. She gets a tickle in the back of her head, and an image is projected into her head: Yaz kneeling on the ground, lapping at the Doctor’s clit like a starving woman. <em>Please.</em></p><p>‘Tell me what you want, Doctor. Use your words.’ She feels drunk on power, with desire, and heat pools in her core.</p><p>‘I want… I want you to, God, Yaz, I want you to fuck me.’</p><p>‘Like this?’ Yaz obliges with her fingers, relishing the hiss the Doctor lets out and the way that the slick skin stretches around her. ‘N—No. With your mouth. I want you to f—fuck me with your mouth. Please.’</p><p>‘You should’ve just said.’</p><p>The Doctor shoots her a withering look, but the effect is rather dampened by the flush on her cheeks and the fact that she’s half-dressed. Yaz grins, kisses her slow, like honey. Then she kneels on the floor, just like in the projection. Her knees press against the fabric of the culottes.</p><p>Yaz can smell the Doctor’s arousal, can see the glistening wetness between her curls. She kisses up her thighs, taking her time, and steadies herself with her hands on the Doctor’s bum.</p><p>‘You smell so good.’ The Doctor makes a sound that is a little like distress and a lot like pleasure. ‘Be patient,’ Yaz says.</p><p>‘Yaz, please, this is unbearable.’ Her voice is higher than Yaz has ever heard it, and she takes mercy on her.</p><p>When she finally acquiesces, the Doctor sobs into the air, her quiet begging filling up Yaz’s ears, spurring her on with a hand in dark hair.</p><p>Yaz doesn’t know how long she spends kneeling there, listening to the Doctor, eating her out. It’s a long time, though, because her jaw is beginning to ache and there’s arousal all down her chin and neck. Finally, the Doctor’s hips stop rutting against her mouth, and Yaz can feel her clit pulsing. There’s a cry above her that sounds like no language Yaz has ever heard before.</p><p>She helps the Doctor slide to the ground and takes in the sight. The Doctor’s eyes are closed, and her chest is heaving and her lips are swollen from how hard she’s been biting them. She’s magnificent.</p><p>‘Yaz.’ The Doctor looks like she’s overwhelmed and Yaz smooths her hair.  ‘I’m right here, Doctor. Not going anywhere.' </p><p>--</p><p>She was helping the Doctor get dressed when the distress signal sounded. Yaz wishes now that they’d never gone because of course, it’s a trap for the Doctor.</p><p>How did they get here? In the midst of an empty field, trying to defuse the bomb that the Daleks planted in the heart of the planet.</p><p>The Doctor is distressed and the clock is ticking down.</p><p>‘No, no, no, no. Think, Doctor, think! There must be a way out.’ She’s bashing her hands against her head, pulling at her hair. </p><p>‘Doctor.’ She’s trying not to panic, but the clock. ‘It says we have fourteen seconds.’</p><p>The Doctor gets a determined look in her eyes, makes a decision, and speaks. ‘Get in the Tardis, all of you.’</p><p>‘But Doc, what about the planet?’ Graham asks. </p><p>Before Yaz can say anything, the Doctor gets a dangerous look in her eyes.</p><p>‘Get. In. The Tardis. Now.’</p><p>They all obey, and the Doctor follows. Yaz has never seen the Doctor move so fast around the TARDIS in all her time with her. What is she going to do? How is she going to save the planet?</p><p>The turbulence rocks the TARDIS, and it is then that Yaz realises that the Doctor is running. She’s run away from the problem. </p><p>Ryan gets it too, because his voice hitches, and he’s glowering at the Doctor through the moisture in his eyes. ‘What about all those people? It was our fault that the Daleks targeted their planet.’ He means that it’s the Doctor’s fault.‘ All those children and parents and people, Doctor. What about them?’</p><p>‘I didn’t have a choice, Ryan.’</p><p>‘No, Doctor, we always have a choice. We need to go back, before we got there, we need to fix it.’</p><p>‘It would create a paradox!’</p><p>‘So?’</p><p>‘More than just that planet would die.'</p><p>‘Doctor,’ Yaz tries, but then she explodes like some sort of supernova.</p><p>‘You don’t understand. None of you, you can’t. The responsibility is mine. I have to make decisions about what happens, who lives and who dies. If we had stayed, you all would have died. For nothing! I could have either kept trying and let you die, or I could run.’ The Doctor paces, her arms flailing in the space between them. Her hair is standing on end like a madwoman’s.</p><p>Yaz watches as the best person in the universe beats herself up over something she couldn’t control.</p><p>‘The Daleks will kill again. I sacrificed my planet to stop them and it didn’t work. It never does. No matter what I sacrifice, no matter what I do, they always come back to hurt the people I love. I sacrificed my children, my grandchildren, and their grandchildren, my whole people, they’re all gone. And for what? It didn’t work. It didn’t work! The Daleks always come back, like roaches, like vermin.’ The Doctor chokes on her tears, huddling on the floor like a child. Not a one of them goes to hold her, and Yaz will never forgive herself for that.</p><p>‘What do you mean you sacrificed your people, Doc?’ Graham’s voice is soft. Like he’s trying to reason with her, like he’s trying to comfort her from afar.</p><p>‘I’ve said too much.’ She wipes her tears on her sleeve forcefully and stands.  ‘Let me get you home.’</p><p>The shocked silence lasts all the way to Sheffield.</p><p>When Yaz goes to sleep that night, it’s not just the Doctor’s cries she hears.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Big shout-out to Mia for encouraging this and wanting it. Big shout-out to Tory, who was an excellent beta. Big shout-out to everyone who reads and enjoys. </p><p>This was a hard one to write, but it was fun.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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